


Obey Me! Short Stories

by Adverb_Slut



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Humor, Romance, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:35:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22410394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adverb_Slut/pseuds/Adverb_Slut
Summary: Just a collection of multiple-part short stories and oneshots featuring the Obey Me! characters.  This collection will feature slice of life, romance, and fluff stories from the second person (with an unnamed and physically undescribed MC).  I will try to feature all the boys.Story #4: fuck, i'm lonely (Oneshot): After MC returns back to the Human World, both they and Mammon realize that they're lonely.Story #4 is now up! (Starts at Chapter 8)
Relationships: Asmodeus & Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Asmodeus/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Beelzebub & Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Beelzebub/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Belphegor & Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Belphegor/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Leviathan & Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Leviathan/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Lucifer & Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Lucifer/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Main Character & Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Main Character/Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Main Character/Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Comments: 45
Kudos: 361





	1. Table of Contents

**Table of Contents**

* * *

Click on a story to jump to the first chapter. This will be updated as new stories come out.

  1. [**Empty Wallets and Empty Stomachs** (Jump to Page 2)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22410394/chapters/53543272)  
  
Summary: _You (MC) hang out doing dumb stuff with Mammon and Beel.  
  
_Genre: _Fluff/Humor  
  
_Number of Parts: _4_  
  
Status: _Completed_  
  

  2. [**Let's Film An Adult Video!** (Jump to Page 6)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22410394/chapters/55592797)  
  
Summary: _You (MC) film what you think is an adult video with Simeon.  
  
_Genre: _Humor  
  
_Number of Parts: _1  
_  
Status: _Completed  
  
_
  3. [**Avatar of Greed** (Jump to Page 7)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22410394/chapters/55993993)  
  
Summary: _Mammon barges into your (MC's) room very upset. You may not have all the answers, but you sure know when someone is in need of a hug and a listening ear._  
  
Genre: _Angst/Comfort/Fluff_  
  
Number of Parts: _1_  
  
Status: _Completed_
  4. [**fuck, I'm lonely** (Jump to Page 8)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22410394/chapters/56414548)  
  
Summary: _After MC returns back to the Human World, both they and Mammon realize that they're lonely._  
  
Genre: _Mutual Pining_  
  
Number of Parts: _1_  
  
Status: _Completed_




	2. Empty Stomachs and Empty Wallets Part 1/4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I just recently got into Obey Me! and I really love it so far! These are a collection of short stories that I am writing for the game; some will be oneshots, while others will be short stories that have anywhere from two to four parts (in total they will be around two thousand to maybe five thousand words). I will try to include all the boys but be warned that I have a major soft spot for Mammon and Beel (and Satan, most of the time), so they probably will be featured the most.
> 
> As you read, you will notice that the story is written in the present tense in the second-person, just like the game. There is no name specifically given to the main character, and they will simply be called "MC" (Main Character). I will do my best to refer to the character as gender-neutral, but in some stories, I will refer to them as a girl.
> 
> Also! Most of these stories will have spoilers from the most recent chapters in Normal mode, so beware!

**Empty Stomachs and Empty Wallets Part 1/4**

“ … and _that_ , class, is the true nature of the Twin Paradox. As you can see—” Your professor, a gangly demon with round glasses and a haircut that reminds you vaguely of the Backstreet Boys, is promptly interrupted by the low gong of the school bell, signaling that class is over. 

Upon hearing this, you whip out your D.D.D and make your way to the door as your teacher calls, “Don’t forget to read Chapter Seven, Section Nine through Twelve of your _Physics IV_ : _Mind Over Matter_ textbook for class on Wednesday!” 

You scroll through the messages on your Chat app, doing your best to keep one eye on your D.D.D and one eye on the sea of demons bustling to get to their next class.

Lucky for you, Physics is your last class of the day. As you make your way to the House of Lamentation, you notice that you have a missed call dating back an hour ago from Mammon.

Feeling it’s too late to call back, you decide to send a text instead.

 **Mammon  
****MC** : You called?

 **MC** : What’s up?

You see an ellipse bubble pop up immediately, indicating that Mammon is typing.

 **Mammon** : MC HOW DARE YOU MISS MY CALL

 **Mammon** : You can miss everyone else’s calls, but not *mine*, got it?

 **Mammon** : I have important things to say, y’know!

You feel a smile grow on your face and shake your head.

 **MC** : Important things? Like what?

 **Mammon** : WELL, it just so happens that I get paid today!

You stare at the message in confusion. Paid? Before you can question his statement, you remember that Mammon frequently did various modeling jobs to make cash. It was supposed to be a way to earn a little spending money and pay off his debts, but unfortunately for his creditors, the latter very rarely happened.

However, you are still unsure as to why Mammon is telling you this. You send a confused-looking sticker.

Mammon, surprisingly, doesn’t respond right away. You close out of the Chat app and begin to put your D.D.D away. As you fumble around for a pocket to put it in, you crash headfirst into someone.

 _Oh, crap_ , you think. The demons at R.A.D normally don’t bother you, but that’s because you usually don’t _headbutt_ them accidentally.

“I’m so sorry—” you start, but your apology is cut short as the demon turns around. “Beel! I apologize; I didn’t see you there!”

Beelzebub pivots to face you. “Oh, hi, MC,” he says, greeting you with a melancholy nod. 

You cock your head curiously. The sixth-born demon’s face is set into a sorrowful frown, and the five-pound bag of Scummy Bears that he’s holding is only _half_ empty. “Is something wrong?” 

He looks down and shakes his head. “Nothing you need to worry about.” Beel looks back at you. “Are you going back to the House of Lamentation?”

You want to ask him some more questions, but at the same time, don’t want to pry. “Yep!”

“Let’s walk together, then.” He flashes you an unconvincing smile as the two of you begin to make your way down the R.A.D halls. 

Unsure of what to say, you keep silent, smiling internally as Beel walks slower than his usual long strides so that you can keep up with him. By now, most students have either gone to their dorms or have made it to their last few classes; the only sounds that echo through the hallway are you and Beel’s footsteps.

You keep your silence until the two of you near a trash can in the hall, where Beel dumps what remains of his bag of Scummy Bears into the garbage.

You gasp and your eyes widen. _What in the Devildom just happened_?

Beel puts a hand over his taut stomach in response to your astonished look. He peers at his feet as he explains, “My stomach feels queasy. I can’t eat right now.”

In the few months that you have known Beel, you can hardly remember a time where he has turned down food, let alone _thrown it in the trash_. Whatever problem Beel is facing, you wager it has to be serious. 

Beel turns away and continues to walk down the corridor. You want to grab his hand and get him to stop, but knowing Beel’s strength, you know that there’s no way that you could physically do that. Instead, you run in front of him and put your hands out, causing him to halt and tilt his head in confusion.

Furrowing your brow, you poke Beel in the chest. “Tell me what’s bothering you, Beel. It’s not good to keep things bottled up.”

Beelzebub still won’t meet your eyes. “I know.” He sighs, as he glances up and notices that you still haven’t left his path. “I’ll tell you later.”

You don’t want to push the soft-spoken demon and step to the side. “I hope you do.”

As before, you and Beel continue to the House of Lamentation in silence. Once you two arrive, Beel heads directly to him and Belphegor's room without his usual stop to the kitchen. You shake your head and make your way over to your own room.

Dumping your backpack onto the floor, you head over to your downy bed, breathing in the floral scent of jasmine and roses. Only Asmodeus uses that scent of detergent, so he must be on laundry duty this week. You mentally thank him for using such a pleasant scent, unlike the strange musk of the sandalwood and papyrus fabric softener that Satan had used two weeks earlier. 

Your laundry-related musings are interrupted by rapid, deafening knocking on your door. You hope it is Beel, _finally_ ready to talk about whatever is bothering him, but you know better than that. Beel, for all his muscled glory, has a very quiet, almost timid knock. The only demon in the House of Lamentation that has a knock so boisterous, so cacophonous, so incessant is … 

“How come you’re not dressed yet?” Mammon demands, walking straight into your room as soon as you open the door. “Didn’t you get my messages?”

“I haven’t checked my D.D.D in a bit,” you admit, pulling the device out of the pocket of your uniform. You open the Chat app, noticing that you indeed have some message notifications from Mammon.

 **Mammon  
********Mammon** : HUH? How’re you confused by *that*?

 **Mammon** : Getting paid means I’m going shopping! And you’re comin’ with me!

 **Mammon** : Be dressed by the time I get home from *barf* tutoring!

 **Mammon** : Curse Lucifer and Satan for making me go to that crap, by the way.

 **Mammon** : I mean, who *cares* if I have a D- in Statistics?

“I don’t think I can go shopping today, Mammon,” you sigh. Grabbing your backpack from off the ground, you begin to rifle through it until you find your Physics IV textbook. “I have a lot of homework due soon.”

“Homework, shmomework,” Mammon chides, yanking the book from your hands. “There ain’ t nothing wrong with not doing it once in a while.”

You give him a look. _No wonder he has a D_ \- _in Statistics_. 

Mammon grabs your hand, leads you off the bed, and pushes you over to the closet. “Tell ya what, if you come with me, I’ll be _super_ generous and buy you anything you want from the store—only something super cheap, though, but still!”

You want to protest, but figure Mammon won’t let this go. Instead, you get dressed into something more casual than your uniform and step out of your closet.

The second-born, who was absentmindedly flipping through your Physics textbook as you changed, immediately sits erect once as you appear. “I swear that I wasn’t going through your things,” he claims. “ _Much_.” He gives your outfit a once-over and two thumbs-up. “I always forget how nice you clean up for a human, MC! You’re officially fashionable enough to stand by my side!”

You blush ever so slightly, but before Mammon can notice, you busy yourself by emptying your backpack of any school-related content. That way, you have an empty bag to carry as you go shopping. “And if I don’t want to stand by your side, Mammon?” you tease. 

The demon’s face flushes with a blush even deeper than yours. “O—of course, you want to be by my side! I’m the Great Mammon, don’t you forget that!”

You smile as you take out your last notebook from your bag. “Okay, I’m ready to go shopping with you,” you say, putting your backpack on. “Let’s go.”

“Say it with a little more enthusiasm, will ya?” Mammon complains as he opens the door to let you through. 

You shake your head, smile, and decide to tease him some more. “Fine. _Let_ ' _s go_!”

“That’s not the part I said to be more enthusiastic about!”


	3. Empty Stomachs and Empty Wallets Part 2/4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mammon and you go shopping, and in his own way, Mammon shows you his softer side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your kudos and comments! 
> 
> Just a note: please, *please* forgive my absolutely crap-tastic puns in this chapter—I'll admit they suck real bad right off the bat, heh.

**Empty Stomachs and Empty Wallets Part 2/4**

“Are you _serious_ , Mammon?” Leviathan growls. “I already checked ahead—the Ruri-chan figurine, if you buy it in the Majolish collectibles department, is only four hundred and fifty thousand Grimm. I’m not paying you a cent more.”

Mammon waves his hand nonchalantly. “And if I ain’t mistaken, Levi, ya want this figure today, right?”

Levi grinds his teeth. “Right.”

“Well, then! Ya want me to go buy it for you today, you pay me my two hundred and twenty-five thousand Grimm labor fee!”

“I’m _not_ paying you that much Grimm extra.”

“Then go buy it yourself!”

“I _can’t_. I have to finish this gaming campaign today. I already put it off long enough, and it’s _not_ my fault that the Ruri-chan neko maid figure releases today, too! It's gonna sell out, fast!”

“Then pay me my damn labor fee!”

“You just made that up, and I already _told_ you— _I’m not paying you that much_ , you ass!”

And on they go. 

You’ve been listening to the two brothers argue for the past fifteen minutes. You had thought by now _maybe_ Mammon and you would have gotten a start on his shopping, but _no_ , he had insisted on barging into Levi’s room to see if he could make a little extra Grimm off of his younger brother before the two of you left. 

“You’re scum, Mammon, you know that?” Levi growls. He turns to you, pouting. “What about you, MC? Will you buy my precious Ruri-chan figurine for me?”

You sigh. “Give me the money, Levi. If I see the figure, I’ll buy it.”

The third-born demon grins. “Thanks! I knew I could count on you.” 

He rummages through the pocket of his coat and begins to count out the right amount of Grimm. Once he has enough bills, he hands the stack to you, but before you can grab it, the money is intercepted by Mammon.

“I’ll hold onto that for you, MC,” Mammon assures, a coy smile lighting his face. “You don’t have any pockets in that sweatshirt.”

You smile sardonically and pull Levi’s money back. You know better than to trust _Mammon_ , the Avatar of _Greed_ with _money_ of all things. Secrets? Maybe. Schemes? Definitely. Being a tsundere idiot? There was no one more capable. But _money_? You’d be rivaling _him_ in idiocy if you did that. 

“It’s fine; I got it,” you promise, sliding the money into the deepest pocket in your backpack.

Levi scowls at Mammon as you two leave. “Please die.”

* * *

“Here we are, MC!” Mammon grins, waving his hand for you to take in all the scenery. “The most expensive shopping district in all of the Devildom!”

You look around at your surroundings; it was a horribly gaudy site. There are huge building complexes, studded with stores selling items from the most famous brands in the world. What really brings out the garishness of the location is that every store seems to be covered in gold.

There’s a gilded Ralph _Gore_ n shop, a Chan _hell_ showroom that sparkles with a yellow brighter than the sun, and even a Bur _bury_ emporium that glitters with a fine flaxen coating. 

“Why … why does everything look like this?” you can’t help but ask.

Mammon, who had been staring lovingly at the lurid buildings, looks over at you, pulled out of his reverie. “What? Oh, the gold? It’s just to show how expensive everything is.”

“What do you mean?”

“ _Well_ , MC,” Mammon explains, suddenly grabbing your hand as he leads you further into the shining abyss. “All this stuff—” He gestures toward all the name-brand stores. “You can find in any of the regular couture shopping districts in the Devildom. _However_ , the stuff sold here _specifically_ —the very same stuff in all the other stores—is more expensive. The buildings are all covered in gold to represent that. It’s great, huh?”

You dig your heels in the ground. “Wait … you mean … you’re only shopping here … because it’s expensive?”

“Duh! Things that cost more make ya look cool.” He yanks your hand harder to get you moving again. “ _Not_ that I need help looking cool or anythin.’”

“Of course.”

 _Wow_ , you realize. _He really lives up to his title of the Avatar of Greed_.

“Oh! Look over there! Silver-plated spurs! Let’s go see if they have ‘em in bronze or somethin’—silver kinda clashes with my look, y’know? And holy crap, they’re selling diamond insoles for your slippers in that store! Can’t imagine they’d be comfortable, but still, why wouldn’t you want ‘em?”

Before you know it, you and Mammon are standing in line for the register at Ver _sucky_ , with the second-born demon holding at least seven or eight different, high-end items, all of which you wonder if he has any use for. 

“I know what you’re thinking, MC,” Mammon says, looking at your confused expression. “ _How much money does the Great Mammon make from modeling if he can afford to buy this much stuff_?”

You want to point out that that was _not_ in fact, what you were wondering, but he barrels on ahead.

“Well, _a lot_ , of course, ‘cause y’know, I got all _this_.” He gestures toward his body sensuously. “But still, even if it’s not enough, I got my beloved Goldie!” Mammon shuffles all his desired items to one hand, and with the other, whips out a shiny black credit card from his pocket.

Your eyes widen. “Didn’t Lucifer confiscate that from you two days ago?”

“Yeah,” Mammon admits. “But I found it. He left it in one of the oysters in Levi’s aquarium— _don’t_ ask how I figured it out.”

You shake your head and can’t help but smile at his rebelliousness. You wonder how Lucifer is going to punish Mammon for his craftiness this time.

As you and he reach the front of the line, Mammon suddenly drops everything he’s holding. “Oh, crap.”

You reach to pick up all the items that had tumbled to the ground. “What?”

“Well … “ Mammon scratches the back of his neck, a slight blush coming over his tan skin. “I just realized that I promised I’d buy ya somethin’ if you came with me, and heh, here you are.”

“It’s okay, Mammon; you don't need to get me anything,” you reassure him. You hadn’t _really_ expected him to keep his end of the bargain, and honestly, you didn’t really care. You hadn’t actually _needed_ anything from the store, and in fact, the only reason you had tagged along was, well, for the company … and the fact that Mammon wouldn’t have shut up if you hadn’t. 

“No, it’s _not_ ,” he says. He grabs your wrist and leads you out of Versucky. “I said I’d buy ya somethin’ and that’s what I’m gonna do. Here, we’ll buy whatever _you_ want first, so then I’ll know how much Grimm I have left to spend.”

“But you don’t have to worry about how much money you can spend,” you remind him. “You have Goldie.”

Mammon’s blush deepens. “W—well, yeah, I know!” He looks down, grinding his heel into the ground. “But I just remembered that Lucifer put a control lock on her that notifies him every time she’s being used, and then he’ll know I took her back.” His head whips up immediately. “And just so y’know, it _ain’t_ like I’m _afraid_ of him, or anythin;’ I just figured not using her would be the smarter thing to do, that’s all!” 

You smile at his display. “If you say so.”

“Wh—what! Ya don’t believe me?”

“No, no, of course, I do.” 

“You—you better!” He coughs and tries to regain his composure. “Now, where do you wanna go? Unless ya wanted to shop at Versucky, ‘cause I guess we could go back in there.” 

“I’m not really sure,” you admit. Even in the human world, you weren’t very familiar with couture brands, and you’re even more lost in the Devildom. Your eyes scan the apparently endless miles of gilded shops until you spot a strange blip of steel gray in the sea of gold. “What’s that?”

Mammon squints in the direction you point. “Never seen that store before in my life. Kinda gross, though. The whole ashy color scheme really clashes with the rest of the buildings here.”

To be honest, you find the dull color of the ediface somewhat soothing compared to the sheer gaudiness of its surroundings. You begin to make your way over to it, Mammon in tow.

“Thrifty’s Cheap Finds,” Mammon reads as you near the building. He dry heaves. “ _Cheap_ finds? What is this? Some kind of lame way to attract broke-ass degenerates like …” He trails off when he sees your raised eyebrow and blushes. “I wasn’t gonna end that sentence with ‘you,’ I swear! Calm down!”

You shake your head and don’t respond as you enter the store. As you begin to wander around the shop, not even _Mammon_ can keep his jaw from falling open in wonder. Inside Thrifty’s Cheap Finds is everything from hairspray to mattresses to books to cookie sheets—all of them branded with _human_ company labels. 

“No wonder everything here is so cheap,” Mammon realizes. “No one in the Devildom wants human stuff. Well, unless you’re Satan and Lucifer and like all that antique crap.”

You resist the desire to glare at him and instead pore through everything in the shop, your eyes never failing to examine each item. It’s been months since you’ve been home and seen any of these types of knickknacks. 

A wave of homesickness washes over you as you finger a timeless gingham tablecloth, as Mammon ambles off to the electronics section, which is filled with ancient-looking cellphones and computers. 

You swallow the feeling away before it can cause a lump in your throat and tears in your eyes. You wander farther down, realizing that all the mismatched pots and pans mean that this is the cooking aisle. 

You pause in the section of this aisle that displays cookbooks and remember the miserable look on Beelzebub’s face earlier today. Perhaps, you wonder, there is something in here that would cheer him up.

The cookbooks are all in disarray, and you shuffle through the many stacks of them several times before you find a book that you think Beel would like. You flip through the cookbook and nod in approval; the pictures are large and detailed and the human recipes are quick, simple and hearty—perfect for the always hungry Avatar of Gluttony. 

You flip the book over and read the price tag. “Nine thousand Grimm.” 

You worry that that’s too much, especially since you remember Satan once mentioning that books from the human world usually weren’t economical. You haven’t really gotten the idea of how much a single Grimm is worth yet, and you keep hearing Mammon’s voice in your head, insisting that whatever you buy today be _cheap_. 

“Hey, what’cha got there, MC?” Mammon asks, materializing as if on cue. “This what you want?” He grabs the book from your hands and gives it a mildly disgusted look. “A _cookbook_?”

“It’s for Beel,” you say, defensively.

Mammon raises an eyebrow. “The only demon ya should be buying stuff for is _me_ , but I’ll let it slide this time.” He too flips the book over. You grimace nervously as his eyes widen when he sees the price.

“I’ll put it back if it’s too expens—” you begin, pulling it away.

Mammon blushes. “Ar—are you kidding, MC? When I said to buy something _cheap_ earlier, I didn’t actually mean it! Hell, I’m willing to splurge on ya if you really want somethin!’ You didn’t _actually_ have to go find something _this_ dirt-cheap!”

 _Huh, so nine thousand Grimm is considered inexpensive_ , you note. You smile at Mammon’s uncharacteristic generosity. “It’s okay, I really _do_ want this.”

He runs a hand through his hair and tries to regain his composure, but to no avail. “Y—you sure? I mean—if ya wanna get somethin’ from Ralph Goren or somethin,’ I’m cool with that!”

You hold the cookbook to your chest and nod. “I’m sure.” You grab his hand and lead him to the register.

As Mammon pays the nine thousand Grimm to the lanky demon clerk, he shakes his head and looks at you. “You really are something else, y’know that, MC?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you wondering where Beel is, fret not, he shall be featured prominently in the next chapter! And yes, the Levi's figurine plotline will be tied up at some point in the story, although be forewarned that it's not that big of a deal in this short.


	4. Empty Stomachs and Empty Wallets Part 3/4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beel finally reveals his predicament.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your comments, kudos, and subscriptions!
> 
> I had more things to write for this chapter, but admittedly, I thought it was getting too long (I try to stay under 1500 words for these), so I might reveal it in the next chapter.
> 
> This references some things from Chapters 17-18, so if you haven't played through those yet, be warned that there are some spoilers.

**Empty Stomachs and Empty Wallets Part 3/4**

As soon as you and Mammon return home, you walk over to Leviathan’s room and knock on his door. Hung on your wrist is a bag from a store called, Look At Me, I’m a Stupid Otaku (or at least, that’s what Mammon had told you the building sign had said. You don’t know how to read Japanese.), which held a Ruri-chan figurine. “Levi? It’s me, MC.”

“Come in,” the third-born demon calls. 

You open the door, only to see Levi slouched over on his computer. You take the figurine out of the bag. “Where do you want this?”

“Oh, is that my darling Ruri-chan?” he asks, his eyes never leaving the screen. “You can bring it here. Sorry, I’d come over and get it myself, but there are only two minutes left on this boss stage, and he still has half of his HP left.”

You bring the figure to his desk and leave it next to what looks like a box of granola bars. “Super high-energy chocolate-covered cricket snacks,” you read. “Now with extra protein.” You blanch because despite living in the Devildom for a while, you still have yet to become accustomed to the food. 

“Yeah, sometimes when I’m really in the gaming zone, I don’t leave my room for days, not even to get meals and stuff lololol, so I keep those here if I get hungry.”

“Can I have one?” You are planning to check in on Beel after making this stop to Levi’s room, and realize that it would be better to show up with food.

His eyes glued to his computer, Levi nods. “Go for it.” 

As you reach into the box to take one, Levi suddenly turns toward you, even though you can see the timer counting down on his game. “Better take the whole box. Beel’s not gonna be satisfied with just one.” He sighs. “Everyone’s been kinda worried about him, you know? He’s been down all day, but he’s not saying anything to anyone, not even Belphie.” He perks up. “But! If there _is_ someone who can make him feel better, it’s you, MC!”

You smile at his worry for his brother. “Thanks, Leviathan.” You stuff the box into your backpack.

He nods, before turning back to his game, frowning when he realizes that the onscreen timer read 00:00 and he hadn’t been able to finish off the boss. “He’s in the gym.”

“Of course,” you say, as you leave his room.

* * *

Just as Levi had said, you find Beel in the House of Lamentation’s fully-equipped gym. 

The sixth-born demon is sitting cross-legged in front of an elliptical, a towel slung across his shoulders. Unsurprisingly, his twin—Belphegor—is with him, napping with his head resting on Beel’s lap. 

Beel frowns nervously when he sees you. “Oh, hi, MC.” He sighs. “ _I guess you’re not here to tell Belphie how cute he looks sleeping like this._ ”

You cock your head curiously. “I can if you want me to.”

Beel shakes his head. “I was just checking to see if he's awake.”

“Ah,” you realize, sitting down next to him. “Is there something that you don’t want Belphie to hear?”

Beel nods but doesn’t say anything more. Instead, he fiddles with the hem of his rather tight-fitting tank top. You try not to stare at the bulging silhouette of his abs that show through. “It’s funny,” he begins. “When either of us is upset, I get _less_ hungry, but Belphie becomes _more_ sleepy.” 

You remember learning of the twins’ connection a few days earlier. The two had a bond so strong that they sometimes shared each other’s feelings, and if one had an extreme emotion, the other would often experience it, too. You put a hand on his arm. “What _are_ you so upset about, Beel?”

He groans. “It’s nothing, really.”

You decide to try a different tactic. “You’re worrying your brothers,” you admit gently.

“I know.” Beel takes a deep breath. Twisting around, he pulls out his navy backpack from behind the elliptical. After rummaging through it for a moment, he pulls out a telltale _Physics IV_ : _Mind Over Matter_ textbook. He flips to the end of the book and releases a packet of paper, which he hands to you.

You examine it for a moment, surprised to see in obnoxious red ink, the phrase _F_ \- sprawled across the front. _Maybe stick to lifting weights, meathead_ is written underneath it. Although the words cause your blood to boil, you swallow your anger and calmly move your hand up to Beel’s shoulder. “You’re upset because you did bad on a test?”

Beel slouches, his back sliding down one of the supports of the elliptical. He continues to fiddle with his shirt and doesn’t meet your eyes. “It’s not just that,” he confesses. “If I fail another one, my professor is going to make me repeat the subject.” He sighs. “Belphie’s always helped me study in Physics; we almost always have the same class schedule—except I take Weights and he takes regular P.E—and he always made sure I knew the material.”

“But Belphie doesn’t go to R.A.D this year,” you realize. “He’s supposed to be enrolled in a human school for the exchange program.”

“Yeah,” Beel sighs. “I can’t ask him to learn the information at home _with_ me—I know he would if _I_ asked—he’s already been through so much this year.” He gulps. “Lucifer is going to be _so_ mad when he finds out I’m failing.”

“Why can’t you just get a tutor, like Mammon does?”

“You see how everyone makes fun of him because of that.”

You want to point out that Mammon usually _brought_ the teasing upon himself _and_ justified it with his unrelenting moronness, but an idea strikes you instead. “Hey, _I_ ’ _m_ in Physics IV, too. Why don’t we study together?”

Beel’s face lights up. “Really, MC? You’d do that?” 

You laugh as you hear his stomach growl in excitement. “Of course!” You remember the cricket snacks you took from Levi’s room and begin to take the box out of your backpack. You see the cookbook you bought for him and take that out, too. “You’re hungry, now?”

He grins sheepishly. “Yes, I’m famished!”

“Look here, I brought you snacks,” you say, handing the box to him. “Thank Levi next time you see him.”

Beel immediately rips open a package and begins to eat. “Hi wroh.” He swallows, and repeats, “I will. Thanks to you, too.” He looks at the cookbook in your hand curiously. “What’s that?”

You place the book in his lap, balancing it precariously on Belphegor’s head. “It’s a cookbook from the human world. I bet it has all kinds of recipes for foods you haven’t tried before.”

Beel grabs another cricket snack as his eyes widen. “I haven’t eaten many human foods before. Let’s look at it together.”

You nod, opening the book and flipping the page as Beel munches. 

“Haha,” he laughs. “Angel Food Cake. Maybe we should make some for Simeon and Luke.” 

You smile and turn to the following page. The next recipe is for Devil’s Food Cake. “Or maybe you can make this one for dessert someday. Or this one—look—Deviled Eggs.”

“Those look good.” Opening another snack, Beel suggests, “Hey, MC, I’m on dinner duty tomorrow. Want to help me cook some of these foods? Or maybe, I can cook and you can help me study?”

“That sounds like a good idea, Beel,” you muse. “What do you think we should make, then?”

“Well, Satan won’t eat animals, Leviathan refuses to eat seafood, and Belphie—” He pats his brother on the head. “—doesn’t like to eat beef or veal. If we use any of those, we probably have to substitute the meat with other things.”

You and Beel pore through the cookbook for several hours, finally deciding on Deviled Eggs as appetizers, Garlic Parmesan Risotto and Savory Mashed Potatoes for the main course, and Black Forest Cake for dessert. 

“This will be fun,” Beel promised, yawning. “I’ll pick up the ingredients after school tomorrow.”

You curse the contagiousness of yawns as you yawn, too, feeling your eyes grow heavy. You can feel Beel’s head rest on your shoulder as he begins to snore lightly. Without thinking, you lean your head to the right, feeling Beel’s under you. You promise yourself that you won’t fall asleep as you close your eyes and mutter, “Sounds … like a … plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter should be the last one for this short story. After that, I have another Beel oneshot raring to go, but hm, I think this story has enough Beel and I would like to include all the boys in this collection. Chapters 17-18 gave me serious Belphie feels, so instead, I might have the next story be about him.


	5. Empty Stomachs and Empty Wallets Part 4/4

**Empty Stomachs and Empty Wallets Part 4/4**

“I’m gonna kill him,” Mammon whispers, his voice low and colder than ice as you, him, and Beel huddle over your D.D.D. “I’m _really_ gonna kill him.”

Beel frowns at his elder brother. “Why are you so upset? You’re not even _in_ the picture.”

“Yeah, if anyone should be mad, it’s me, Beel, or Belphie,” you comment, zooming in on the photo, which had been taken yesterday. 

It was from when you and Beel had fallen asleep together as you two pored over the cookbook you had bought for him. Strangely enough, Asmodeus—who had both taken _and_ posted the photo—was in the picture, as well; he was posing as if he had been napping sweetly on your shoulder the whole time. To everyone’s surprise, the only one “awake” in the photo appeared to be Belphie, who had wriggled his way from lying in Beel’s lap to having his legs rest on his brother while his torso and head were sprawled all over your lap. He was too deeply engrossed in reading Beel’s new cookbook to notice his brother taking the picture. Asmodeus captioned the photo, _Just getting a bit of beauty sleep with my babes_ 😘. 

“Yes, you should!” Mammon says. “ _Why aren_ ’ _t you_ , by the way? This photo is a total invasion of your privacy!” He whirls toward Beel, his eyebrows downturned in anger. “And what’s the big idea, Beel? Sleepin’ on MC’s shoulder like that?” He puts a hand on your head patronizingly. “You shouldn’t touch anyone like that without their permission!”

Beel smiles. “Well, I think MC looks cute in this photo! And it’s not my fault that we fell asleep like that.”

Mammon rolls his eyes. “Well, I’m still gonna kill Asmo for postin’ it.” He taps on your Devilgram feed to unlike the photo. “Anyway, why’d ya call me here?” he asks, gesturing toward the Hall of Lamentation’s kitchen. 

“No one _called_ you here,” you remind him, taking a seat at the kitchen table. You reach down, grab your backpack and pull out the cookbook you had bought for Beel, as well as your copy of _Physics IV_ : _Mind Over Matter_.

“Yeah,” Beel agrees, his mouth downturned in a frown. “You just heard that MC was going to be in the kitchen helping me cook and decided to come along.”

Blushing, Mammon takes a seat next to you. “Maybe I just wanted to help ya cook, Beel.”

“No way.” Beel sticks out his arms, barring him from entering the kitchen. “You’re not helping me cook. If you cook, I won’t eat it.”

“Okay, okay, fine, jeez.”

As you flip through the cookbook to find the recipes that you and Beel had decided to make yesterday, Mammon grabs your Physics textbook, whipping through it boredly. “Why’d ya bring your textbook to the kitchen? You having trouble in Physics and want to study here or somethin’? ‘Cause if you are, never fear— _The_ Mammon is here!”

You look at Beel—who glances at you nervously—from the corner of your eyes. You yank the textbook away from Mammon. “You’re not even taking Physics.”

“Yeah, I’m taking Chemistry, and have a C in it, so I’m still passing—so what?”

“How are you supposed to teach me Physics when you’re not even _in_ it?”

“MC! Don’t doubt the Great Mammon’s abilities!”

“Oh yeah? Does the Great Mammon know the formula for … angular acceleration?”

“The change in angular speed divided by the change in time,” Beel pipes up, as he hovers over the stove, checking for the water to boil for his Deviled Eggs.

Mammon laughs and waves his hand at his brother. “Don’t be ridiculous, Beel.” He turns to you. “C’mon, MC, don’t mess around with me. I know ‘angular acceleration’ isn’t even a real word.” 

You turn to the glossary in the back of your book and point to the term with the formula next to it, which Beel had recited. “Seems like the Great Mammon’s abilities have failed him.” You watch Mammon blush furiously and smile. “And besides, Beel and I are having a Physics study session, since we’re both in the class.”

“And we’re not getting much studying done with you here,” Beel quips. He retrieves four dozen eggs from the refrigerator and begins to carefully drop them into the boiling water on the stove with a ladle.

You do a double-take and glance at the cookbook. “Beel, the serving information here says that to serve eight people you only need sixteen eggs, at the _most_.”

Mammon and Beel shake their heads. 

“If my brothers are going to get a chance to eat anything, we’re going to have to make this many,” Beel decides. He hoists up a giant pot of potatoes that had been already boiling on the stove and plops it in front of Mammon, handing him a potato masher. “Mash these.”

“I thought you said you didn’t want me to cook anything,” Mammon whines. 

“Yes, because whatever you make tastes gross. Mashing the potatoes isn’t cooking anything, so you can do _just_ that.”

Mammon grumbles something that sounds curse word-y, but stands up and begins to work the masher into the potatoes. “Just for that, I’m making ‘em creamy. No lumps.” He whispers to you, “Beel loves lumpy potatoes.”

“Fine, Belphie will like it smooth, anyway,” Beel assures. He walks over to the refrigerator and yanks out an entire wheel of parmesan cheese. He sets it in front of you and hands you a cheese grater. “Can you shred this cheese, MC? I’m about to start getting the arborio rice for the risotto ready and the whole process is going to take a while.”

Your eyes widen. _He wants me to grate the_ entire _wheel of parmesan_. “Sure, but what about our … you know, study session?” You had promised to help Beel with Physics, and you were by no means going to forget about it.

“Ask me questions as we go? Sorry, I didn’t realize how much there was to do,” he says sheepishly. 

You nod, laying your Physics textbook flat open to Chapter Seven, which was your assigned reading for your next class. 

You cut off a block of cheese and begin to run it against the serrated surface of the cheese grater for several hours, asking Beel problem after problem from the book. He stumbles on quite a few of them, but you correct him only if you know how to—after all, you yourself aren't a master in Physics. The ones you don’t are questions that you skip, mentally circling them to come back to later. 

Every so often, Beel grabs a scoop of the mound of grated parmesan that you have shredded and adds it to his pot of risotto. Surprisingly, Mammon also throws several handfuls of cheese into his potatoes, as he mashes them until they are so smooth that you were sure that not even an _ant_ would be able to find the tiniest lump.

Beel doesn’t notice that Mammon adds the rest of the ingredients in the recipe to the potatoes—copious amounts of cream, whole stalks of herbs, salt, and more butter than you have ever seen in your life, and stirs them together. 

“Beel says he won’t eat anythin’ I make ‘cause he’ll hate it,” Mammon explains to you when you stare at him for disobeying his brother’s explicit orders of doing nothing but _mashing_ the potatoes. He smirks. “But wait ‘till he gets a load of these. They’re gonna be great.”

You roll your eyes at the mischievous demon, wondering how his little fling with deviancy is going to bite him this time. 

“Okay, time to assemble the cake,” Beel announces, plopping all forty-eight freshly-piped Deviled Eggs onto the table, along with a steaming casserole filled with Garlic Parmesan Risotto. “MC, can you sprinkle the rest of the cheese on top?” 

As you begin to do just that, he brings over three round German chocolate cakes, a bowl of whipped cream, and a dish filled with cherries macerated in sugar. One of the three cakes is already topped with a layer of cream and cherries. 

“I hate cherries,” Mammon grumbles.

As if on cue, Asmodeus walks by. “That’s why you’ve never popped one.”

You stifle your laughter as Mammon’s face turns a very unbecoming shade of red. “ _Asmo_!” He sprints after his brother, leaving you and Beel alone in the kitchen. “I was already gonna kill you once, but now I’m gonna kill you twice! C’mere, you bastard!”

You turn towards Beel, who is putting the third layer of cake onto the growing tower and covering it with whipped cream. 

Putting his spatula down, Beel looks at you. “MC, thanks so much for helping me today—with the food, with the studying, with everything.” He looks down. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

You smile at him. “It’s no problem, Beel!”

“No, really,” Beel insists, staring into your eyes with an intensity that sends shivers all the way down to your toes and causes you to flush pink. “I feel so much more confident now in Physics. I think if I took a quiz today, I’d at least know enough to pass.”

“I’m just glad I could help,” you say honestly. 

Beel grins and carefully lifts the Black Forest Cake by its base and puts it on a cake pedestal. “It’s time to put all this food in the dining room,” he says. He then notices Mammon’s mashed potatoes. He frowns as he sees the green herb fragments, signifying that his brother had done something _other_ to the potatoes than simply mash them as he had told him to. He dips a spoon into the pot and tastes them. Beel’s face becomes a blazing inferno. “I’m going to eat him.”

“What?” you ask, noticing the sudden shift in his mood.

“ _Sugar_.”

“Sugar?”

“He put … sugar … in the Savory Mashed Potatoes.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hm, hm, and that concludes this short story. Next one is probably going to be a Belphie-centered oneshot!


	6. Let's Film An Adult Video! Part 1/1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Simeon believes he's asked by Asmo to film an adult video, MC decides to help him, only to find out that sex is not the only thing on the Avatar of Lust's mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has gotta be one of the dumbest things I've ever written lmaooooo
> 
> Also, I know I said I'd write a Belphie fic before, but this wouldn't get outta my head soooo xD
> 
> I apologize in advance for ze cringe
> 
> Also, when dialogue between you and Simeon are in italics, that means you guys are mouthing the words.
> 
> This is a oneshot btw

**Let's Film An Adult Video! Part 1/1**

You yawn slightly as you exit your _Introduction to the History of Demonology 1001_ classroom and shift the straps of your backpack. You groan at the weight of all the homework your obnoxious teacher assigned to you for the day. 

Your eyes feeling heavy—you had stayed up with Levi all night yesterday playing one of his newly-released games—you stumble forward, nearly tripping on the velvet hallway runner that lines R.A.D’s tiled corridor.

You manage to regain your footing, but again, your ungraceful stroll is impeded by something else—that something being a tall, brown-skinned angel, who leans against the wall with furrowed brows.

You brighten instantly. “Hey, Simeon.” You notice the frown on his face. “Is something wrong?”

Simeon shakes his head. “I have to admit, yes, but it’s nothing for you to worry about, MC.”

You cock your head. “Are you sure? I’d like to help.”

“Well,” Simeon replies, smiling at your earnestness. “I don’t know if you _can_ help. In fact, I’m the one who got myself into this mess, so I suppose I’m the only one who can get myself out.”

You have to wonder what kind of conundrum a pious creature like Simeon could have gotten himself into, so you say, “Just tell me what happened; maybe I can offer some insight.”

He nods. “Okay, then. I guess there’s no harm in telling you.” He sits down, leaning his back against a row of lockers, and motions for you to do the same. “Ah, see. You know, up in the Celestial Realm, we don’t use D.D.Ds. We have our own type of communication devices, sure, but we’ve never really had the need to use anything as complicated as what’s used in the Devildom.”

“Yeah, I remember Solomon telling me that you and Luke were super intrigued when Diavolo gave you guys your D.D.Ds,” you reminisce, as you pull out your own device.

“Yes, they’re really quite complex. We had trouble getting used to them at first.” Simeon laughs cheerfully. “I especially am fond of sending stickers and such, although I have trouble typing actual messages, though.” He pauses. “Anyway, I wanted to get better at navigating my D.D.D, so I enlisted the help of Levi earlier this week since he’s so good with technology.”

You stop him there. “Impossible—Levi’s favorite game just got a new installment on Sunday, so he’s been playing it all week. He’s been at it pretty much 24/7. Actually, I helped him yesterday.”

“Yes, the fact that Levi is busy this week made it so that despite our arrangement, I couldn’t rely on him.” The angel shook his head sadly. “However, Levi _did_ recommend that I talk to Asmodeus if I wanted help with my D.D.D considering Asmo spends a lot of time on it browsing and posting on Devilgram and DevilTube.”

You nod. “Makes sense.”

Simeon goes on, “The thing is, Asmodeus said that if he taught me the ins-and-outs of my D.D.D, he wanted something in return; I said that that was alright.” He looks down, and you can’t help but notice the slight blush on his face as he continues, “Today he let me know what he wants me to do.” He takes a deep breath. “He wants me to film a video in his bedroom … a video featuring him and his … _lady friends_. He said he’d do it himself, but he’d be pretty … occupied during the video. He also said he’d have a script and everything.”

 _“What?”_ You can feel your eyes bulge out of your head, making the connection between the Avatar of _Lust_ and … scripted bedroom videos. “He wants you to film a porno with him starring in it?!”

Simeon nods furiously. “You realize it too, don’t you, MC? I’m sure that’s what he wants, right?”

“Right. He really _must_ be a demon if he wants an angel to film him having sex …” You sigh. “Maybe tell him you don’t want to do it?”

He shakes his head. “No, I can’t do that—I can’t break a promise I made to him.” He sighs. “I’m just going to have to buckle down and do what he asks.”

You feel as if you should’ve known that as an angel, he wouldn’t go back on his word. You decide to alleviate him, considering he looked miserable. “If you want, I’ll help you.”

“I can’t ask you to do that, MC!” Simeon gasps. “You’re not the one who promised this to Asmo!”

“I’m doing it,” you affirm. “I told you I’d try to help, so I’m gonna. With me there, we can take turns controlling the video camera, so _you_ don’t have to see as much … stuff.”

The angel seemed to sense that there was no way that you were budging from your stance, so he groans. “I guess there’s no stopping you, then. Let’s go to Asmo’s room and film an adult video!”

* * *

“Huh,” you comment, peering through the threshold to Asmodeus’ open bedroom. “He’s not here.”

“Yes, he said we could come in beforehand to get all the equipment set up before he brings in his female … companions.” Simeon blushes at the last two words. “Although, I’m not sure we’re going to need all that much recording stuff.” He pulls out his D.D.D. “I mean, Asmo showed me how to work the video camera on this so I think we can use that to film.”

You nod. “That sounds fine. The video quality might not be that great, but since we don’t have anything else, I guess we can just use that.”

Before you can see anything else, you notice that Simeon has begun to wander through Asmodeus’ room. He turns to you, clutching a small, pink, egg-shaped object. His eyes widen in suspicion. “What do you think _this_ is, MC? Some kind of weird sex toy? Do you think they’ll use it in the video? Because if so, I’d like to film that part, to see what hole it goes up in.”

It’s your turn to blush. “I—I believe that’s called a BeautyBlender, Simeon. It’s a sponge for makeup.”

“Ah, I see.” He places it back on Asmo’s vanity and notices that a pale powder has rubbed off the beauty sponge and onto his fingers. He looks curiously at you.

“Foundation,” you explain. “You can wipe it off.”

He nods and reaches toward what looks like a slick metal hand sanitizer dispenser placed on the vanity. But, before he can press the actuator down, Asmodeus prances into his room.

 _“Hello, everyone!”_ Asmo sings. “Oh, lovely! MC, you’re here, too! I’ll do you after I’m done with these two.” 

He gestures at the two female demons that had followed him into the room; both are surprisingly, unconventionally beautiful, with strikingly attractive features that didn’t seem to follow any beauty standards. He saunters toward his bed, pausing when he notices Simeon’s hand poised on the ‘hand sanitizer dispenser.’ “Ooooh, are we interrupting something?” He glances at you and then Simeon, grinning. “If we were, don’t mind us, and _do_ go on! I’ll join in if I notice a lull!”

You cock your head. “… What?”

Asmodeus shrugged. “Well, I can only assume what was about to go on, considering Simeon’s hand is poised on my lube dispenser.”

Simeon whips his hand away from the metal canister, his face bright red. “I—I thought it was hand sanitizer!”

“No, no, that’s lube—good quality stuff, too!” Asmo beckons toward the two other demons, and they walk further into the room. “Lailah, Feota, come, sit on the bed, darlings.”

As the two girls quietly make their way to the bed, Simeon mouths to you from across the room (you magically have insanely good lip-reading skills and can understand him perfectly), _“Holy Father, MC, he has two_ ‘lady friends!’ _We’re gonna be filming a_ threesome! _How scandalous!”_

You nod furiously and point to Asmodeus, who had sauntered over to his closet and is now returning with a massive pink box that is covered with glitter. He plops it down on his bed next to Lailah and Feota.

“I got my bag of tricks!” Asmo explains, pointing to the box. He taps his fingers gleefully. “This is going to be so much fun!”

 _“Bag of tricks?”_ you mouth to Simeon. You have a sneaking suspicion that in regards to the genre of this video, that could only mean _one_ thing.

He turns to the both of you, saying, “I just need to grab a few more things for the video, so if you guys could just hold off on the filming for a few minutes, that would be fabulous.” You and Simeon watch as Asmodeus turns toward his vanity, opens the drawer, and pulls out a curling iron, which confuses you because … where did a curling iron fit into sex?

 _“Vibrator!”_ Simeon mouths, gesturing toward it, his eyebrows raising.

 _“Curling iron!”_ you mouth back to him.

Asmo yanks out an eyelash curler and puts it on the vanity.

_“Nipple clamps!”_

_“Eyelash curler!”_

Next, the fifthborn demon pulls out an assortment of pointy makeup brushes. As you notice the number of beauty supplies accumulating on his vanity, you begin to reconsider the exact nature of the video you and Simeon are to film …

_“Butt plugs!”_

_“Literally_ brushes, _Simeon!”_ You begin to wonder exactly _how_ dirty the angel’s mind is.

Suddenly, Asmodeus produces a pair of fluffy red handcuffs from his drawer, before cheerfully blushing and shoving them back inside. “Whoopsie! Heehee, those aren’t for right now!” He walks back over to his bed, grabs the pink box, and sets it onto the vanity. 

He turns toward you. “MC, be a doll and pull that ball chair up over here toward my vanity. I only have one seat here and both Lailah and Feota should be in front of the mirror.”

 _“So whoever’s not participating in the sexy times at the moment can watch!”_ Simeon, his eyes bugging out of his head, mouths to you, again. 

You facepalm in exasperation and not even bothering to respond to his previous statement, you mouth, _“I’m not sure we’re filming porn, Simeon.”_

The angel looks at you in shock. _“How can you be so sure?”_

Just then, Asmo opens his ‘box of tricks,’ hauling out dozens of tubes of liquid lipstick and eyeliner, at least ninety-three different eyeshadow palettes, and several different small cases of foundation in every skin tone, as well as various other products.

You raise an eyebrow at Simeon. _“Because everything he’s gotten ready so far is a bunch of makeup products.”_

 _“Maybe he wants to look good for the shoot!”_ Simeon counters.

You shake your head. _“I don’t think so.”_

Finally noticing your and Simeon’s silent exchange, Asmodeus turns to you and nods. “Ohh, I bet you guys are wondering about the script.” Before you can correct him on the fact that that is _not_ what you two were pondering, Asmo pulls out a sheet of paper from his vanity drawer and hands it to you. “The script is just something I wrote so that you guys know which angles to film me and the girls from so that we look our _best_ and the audience gets the most out of the video since you guys are just _amateur_ videographers.”

Simeon meanders to your side and reads aloud from the sheet. “‘For the most part, focus on either Lailah or Feota’s face—whoever’s makeup I’m doing at the moment. Normally I’d tell you to put the camera mostly on _me,_ since really, why look at anything else?—but because this is a makeup tutorial and these two are my models, I _guess_ it’s smarter to focus on them.’” Simeon raises an eyebrow and looks at Asmodeus. “ … Wait, so we’re really _just_ making a makeup tutorial video?”

The Avatar of Lust nods enthusiastically. “Yes! For my wildly popular DevilTube channel!” He pauses. “What else would we be filming?”

You and Simeon exchange a look and sigh.


	7. Avatar of Greed Part 1/1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mammon barges into your room very upset. You may not have all the answers, but you sure know when someone is in need of a hug and a listening ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't planning on doing another Mammon-fic, but someone on Tumblr requested it, and who am I to say no, lol?

**Avatar of Greed Part 1/1**

You tap your fingers on your desk and stare daggers at your _Poison Lore 1001_ homework. Your assignment is to create an extremely volatile aphrodisiac using belladonna, hemlock, and another toxic, yet arcane plant native to the Devildom—which is what stumps you, because as a human, _how are_ you _supposed to know what toxic plants are native to the Devildom!?_

You growl in frustration. You aren’t supposed to use the internet to acquaint yourself with said plant and you can't find your library card in order to check out a book at the Royal Library to find out what it might be.

Resting your head on your desk, you sigh. Before you can decide that the assignment is a lost cause, you hear your bedroom door swing open. Someone stomps in and sighs dramatically; you can hear them flop onto your bed. You already know who it is before they say a word.

“Mammon,” you groan, not raising your head. “What did I say about sitting on my bed?”

“‘None of the members of the House of Lamentation are allowed on MC’s bed,’” he recites. He pauses and then amends, “‘Cept for the Great Mammon, ‘cause he was MC’s first.” 

You moan and turn behind you, where you see Mammon lying all starfish-like on your bed. “I don’t remember adding the last part.” You walk over and poke him. “Get off.”

“No,” Mammon whines, slinking further into the sheets. “MC, ya gotta let me stay.” 

Again, you poke him. “Why?”

He sighs. “Just do it, okay?”

Surprised with his answer, you _finally_ decide your homework is most definitely not going to get done and scoot onto the bed with him, sitting on your pillows with Mammon sprawled out in front of you. Absentmindedly, you fiddle with his hair, not noticing the blush that spreads across his face as you do so. 

“St—sto—” he sputters incoherently for a few moments, before closing his eyes and retreating to silence. The two of you sit like that quietly for a spell, before he breaks it again. “MC,” he begins, his voice so faint that you barely can hear it, “d’ya think I’m annoyin’?”

You don’t miss a beat as you continue playing with his hair and answer, “Yes.”

 _“Whaddaya mean by that, huh?”_ he demands, his blush growing even deeper and his eyes flying open. “Didn’t ya hear what I asked? I asked if ya thought I was annoyin’!” 

“I know; I said ‘yes.’” He doesn’t see the tiny smirk that forms at the corner of your mouth.

Mammon fidgets, his face tomato red now. “K—keep talkin’ like that MC, and I might actually believe ya!” He pauses again, and sits up, turning behind to look at you. He looks down and his voice turns into a whisper. “... Do you really, though?”

You look at him, raising your eyebrows. Before he had looked down, you had seen something in his dark blue eyes—something you hadn’t noticed before. 

You had always noticed the pools of a desire for validation that rippled in his dark sapphire irises, but today—today, you saw thin streams of desperation swirling amongst them, as well. You decide that the time for teasing the tsundere, tsundere demon is over. You pull him back down, letting his head rest on your lap and scoop a pillow off your bed.

“Wh—whoa, MC!” he exclaims. You didn’t think his face could get any redder, but somehow it does. “I know you’re desperate for _The_ Mammon, but ya didn’t even answer my que—”

Before the fool can finish his sentence, you whomp your pillow across his head. You blush, grit your teeth, and answer his initial question, saying, _“If I found you annoying, I wouldn’t sit here and listen to you babble, would I?”_

Mammon coughs in embarrassment and wisely avoids eye contact—a fact which you are very grateful for, because what _would_ you do if he saw how red your face was now?

You try to regain your composure. You clear your throat and wonder, “Why do you ask?” You ponder if one of his brothers had said something to him for him to ask such a question, but then you remember Mammon’s neverending patience when it came to the verbal lashings that his brothers magnanimously granted to him. 

“It’s nothin’.”

You remember the desperation you had seen in his eyes and in your most wheedlesome tone, cajole “Come on, say.”

“I told ya, it’s nothin’ for you to worry about, MC.”

“Please say.” You take a deep breath and muster your sweetest voice. “For _me?"_

“AAAH!” he grumbles, nestling his head deeper into your lap. “MC, you know damn well that I can’t say no when ya use that voice!”

You smile in satisfaction and amuse your fingers in his hair once more. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Mammon turns to his side so you can no longer see his face and sighs. “Fine.” He takes a deep breath. “MC, what sin am I the Avatar of?”

“Stupidity.” The tease pops out of your mouth without your consent. 

_“HEY!_ Stupidity’s not a sin and you know it!” 

You stifle a laugh as you notice that he _doesn’t_ deny his idiocy and try to remain serious. “Alright, alright. I know you’re the Avatar of Greed.”

“Mm-hm,” he agrees. “And ya know what? I’m damn good at what I do.” Mammon’s confident tone falters for a moment. “Sure, I’m klepto as hell, but it’s not like I can help that … y’know?” He pauses. “I’m greedy—it’s who I am. When I see somethin’ I like, I gotta have it, no matter what.” You don’t notice that he lightly coils his fingers around your calf as he says this. 

Saying nothing, you nod at his spiel. You know the secondborn demon well enough to realize that he has more to say. 

And he does. His voice lowers to a whisper and he wonders, “Then why am I always gettin’ blamed for bein’ who I am, huh?” You can feel his head shake in your lap. “Sure, I guess me lootin’ stuff isn’t fun for everyone, but it’s not like I can help it—it’s instinct.”

You’re not sure how to answer his question, so you continue your silence and let him talk. 

“But hey, doesn’t everyone notice that it also ain’t fun for all of us to have to explain to the whole class why Belphie’s sleepin’ during lecture _again_ or to open the fridge and realize Beel’s eaten damn near everything? Or hey, do they think it’s easier to have Asmo hittin’ on everything with a pulse? Maybe it’s better for Satan to blow up the House in some kinda tantrum or to have Levi freak the fuck out ‘cause some rando on the internet has a Ruri-chan figure that he doesn’t? Or to know that Lucifer—” his voice breaks, but he swallows quickly and continues, “—to know that Lucifer’s so fuckin’ _perfect_ that I can’t think of any flaws for him?”

Even though you vowed not to interrupt him, you decide it’s best to cut him off there. “Lucifer’s not perfect.”

“Trust me—” Mammon’s voice breaks again as he turns his head deeper into your lap. “—trust me, MC, I know that! Ignore ‘im for a minute here.” He sighs and pivots so that he faces the ceiling, and you can see that his eyes are ever-so-slightly glassy. “Just … why’s that okay, huh? Why’s everything all hunky-dory for them when they’re givin’ into their sin, but all pitchforks ‘n’ torches for Mammon?”

You pull your hands out of his hair and bring them around his shoulders. For once, he’s too distraught to blush. You’re not sure why his brothers act the way they do, but you _are_ sure of the response he needs. “It’s not fair.”

“No,” he mutters, “it ain’t. And it’s not like it bothers me a lot, but sometimes … when I get to thinkin’ … ”

That’s when you realize that the desperation you had seen earlier in his eyes wasn’t _just_ his desperation to be validated, but desperation for someone to just _listen_ to what he was saying. You’d seen how the other six demons reacted when Mammon spoke—they’d tromp over him (although … could you really blame them? Mammon’s dialogue usually made it clear that he was merely operating on one brain cell). Perhaps it was in an effort to tease, but even then there was only so much a demon can suffer. You’re even more thankful now that you had let him monologue for so long. If anyone deserved to, it was the silly secondborn. 

You don’t even have to think as you yank him into a seated position and wrap your arms around his back tightly; you don’t let go as you slowly rub circles into his back. Graciously, you decide to do him a favor and _not_ make the adorable little _squeak!_ he elicited as you did so public knowledge.

“H—hey, MC! Ya don’t have to feel sorry for me or anythin’!” He blushes, having regained _some_ of his cockiness. “I’m a demon for cryin’ out loud! I don't need a hug!” Nevertheless, he takes a deep breath and leans into you. 

Your head is nuzzled into his hair as you murmur, “Shh … everyone needs a hug, sometimes.”

You feel his body stiffen and you worry that that was the wrong thing to say. However, Mammon turns around and wraps his arms around you, just as tightly. 

You breathe warmly into him and stifle a laugh when he meekly asks, “Y—you’re not gonna do this for my brothers, right?”

“Never.”


	8. fuck, i'm lonely. Part 1/1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After MC returns back to the Human World, both they and Mammon realize that they're lonely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was listening to Lauv's "fuck, i'm lonely (with Anne-Marie)" and got hella Mammon vibes. I actually recommend you listen to the before you read this oneshot because I kind of borrow some things from the "plot" of that song.
> 
> This story doesn't realize have an ending, it's just pining and *sort of* happens under the illusion that Belphie and MC never communicated at the end of Chapter 20.
> 
> And also, I apologize for the deluge of Mammon fics, I know I said I wanted to post fics with all the boys, but I just couldn't get this out of my head. I promise I won't post any more Mammon fics to this collection of short stories after this one until I've written a few about the other brothers!

Mammon scrolls absentmindedly through the Internet browser app on his D.D.D and sighs. He has clicked on every application on the device and _still_ has found nothing to pique his interest and take his mind off of the boredom that looms over him as Lucifer does when he _attempts_ to do his Statistics IV remedial homework. He groans and drops his phone to his side, nestling his head deeper into his pillow.

Typically, when he is this deep in a pool of lassitude, he hauls his ass to MC’s room, raps on their door an unholy number of times, and “bribes” them to hang out with him for a spell (only MC never actually accepts his payment, which, in his _obviously_ important opinion, is ludicrous, but super kind, ‘cause he’s like, broke ninety percent of the time).

He shakes his head as soon as the thought enters his head; this is no time to think about MC. MC was long gone, back to their home in the Human World, and he had already done his share of moping around lugubriously in the five months that had followed. Now is the time to sideline those feelings, the time to put his pedal to the medal and become the truly amazing, perfect, and extraordinary demon that MC _totally_ expects him to be.

Except … _fuck_ , he’s lonely.

Mammon picks up his D.D.D and juggles it between his fingertips before squeezing it tightly in his hands. He closes his eyes and wonders … maybe now is the time. He gulps and navigates to the Phone app and clicks Contacts. His fingers are poised on MC’s name before he catches himself. What is he doing? MC hasn’t written, hasn’t texted, hasn’t shown any interest in reliving their time in the Devildom since they had gone. Who is he to hit them up out of the blue when _clearly—_ his heart sinks at the thought _—_ they were enjoying their life in the Human World?

He sighs and throws his D.D.D onto the ground and scoots up his bed so his head rests on the headboard. He leans back and takes a deep breath _—_ he can almost smell MC’s stupidly-good-smelling shampoo in the air. 

_Fuck_. Not letting MC cloud his thoughts is harder than he thought it would be. He then makes a decision: he is _not_ going to think about MC _—_ not about their fingers combing through his hair, not about the fact that their hands fit perfectly in his, and he most _definitely_ is not going to think about their frigid arm wrapped around his torso under the warm blanket on his bed.

He groans and yanks a pillow onto his face. 

This is going to be harder than he imagined.

* * *

You clicked “Play Next Episode” on Devilflix, the Devildom’s version of the popular streaming site, Netflix. You had downloaded the app from the dark web on your computer so you could keep watching a show that Mammon had recommended to you back in June. Although it is October now, you are still chipping away at the two seasons that comprised it. Somehow, you have trouble powering through the comedy with its tsundere, money-hungry main character, as it reminds you of a certain _someone._

You take a sip of the bottle of Demonus Asmodeus had gifted to you as a secret going-away present from when you left the Devildom. Although the Avatar of Lust was a fan of the grape flavor of the drink, he had wisely purchased for you a bottle of the ever-unpopular pomegranate flavor _—_ in fact, the only people in the whole Devildom who actually drank the somehow _somber_ -yet-sweet-tasting wine numbered two, you and Mammon, from whom you had acquired the taste. 

You blanch at the drink; strangely enough, when you had drunk it with Mammon, the wine had a candied flavor, however, now, drinking it by yourself, it tastes hopelessly bitter. 

You muscle through the dark flavor and stare blankly in front of you. The Devilflix show is white noise to you, as you can’t bring yourself to laugh at the main character’s stupid get-rich-quick schemes without his seemingly real-life counterpart at your side. 

You curse yourself for thinking this way _—_ surely you have better things to do besides ruminate on the year you had spent in the Devildom, especially over Mammon, the one demon who you had spent the majority of your time _with_. 

Especially since … you know that he, one of the Seven Rulers of Hell, is probably too busy to even spare you more than a passing thought. 

You sink lower into your chair and take another swig of Demonus, wondering for the seventeen thousandth time why the demonic wine had no alcoholic effect on humans _—_ if there was any time you’d rather be completely and utterly inebriated instead of trapped inside in your own mind with your stupid _feelings_ , it was now. 

You never realized how much you appreciated Mammon’s constant pestering, how he’d always frenetically come to your room in a frenzy with some kind of money-grubbing plot for the two of you to stage, and how at the end of the day when his plans inevitably failed, he’d come to your room with an apologetic smile and some kind of penance. 

It then hits you … _fuck_ , you’re lonely. 

You sigh and open your desk drawer. Pilfering through the clutter, you blindly reach to the deepest corner of the drawer and retrieve your D.D.D. It’s October now _—_ making it five months since you last used the device back in June. You type in your passcode, surprised that the four digits have yet to escape your memory, and scroll until you reach the Phone application. You run through your contacts until you reach Mammon’s name.

Just as you’re about to click his contact, however, you stop yourself.

You shake your head and laugh darkly. What are you _thinking_? Trying to call an actual _demon_ with a role as important as Mammon’s for no other reason than that you’re bored? 

You’re not _that_ desperate … are you?

You shake your head resolutely. You most certainly are _not_ desperate for Mammon’s remorseful grins, his blushy, tsundere stutters, his weirdly toned arms wrapping around your torso as he rests his head on top of yours _—_

You drop your head onto your desk as you realize …

Pining is not your strong suit.


End file.
